Finding Lucy
by Talulasaurus
Summary: When Quinn's family falls apart she has no one to turn to until a familiar face moves in next door. But what happens when he begins to unravel all her darkest secrets?
1. The aftermath of a death

**A/N:** This story starts in the summer before season three.

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I squeezed my eyes tighter in vain; there'd be no more sleep that bright morning. Stretching in a very feline manner, my back arcing up away from the mattress with a gentle sigh escaping my lips I opened my eyes to the fresh beautiful morning, dust dancing in the sunlight above me, casting a very soft atmosphere. This was going to be a good day, sitting up my contentment disappeared as quickly as it had emerged, seeing the bare wall opposite my bed sent me crashing back down into my pillows; feeling very much as though someone had barreled into my stomach my breath came out in jagged pants. The photos formerly on my wall depicted a family, a happy and beautiful family. My family. Mornings were the worst, waking up and briefly forgetting that my world had crashed down around me; the hitting realization of reality.

Walking down the stairs I felt awake, too awake. I didn't _ever _feel that awake anymore. As the porch came into view I looked at it, I had glazed over it before but today I was awake. Letters were piled on the door mat, masses and masses of letters; a mountain that I couldn't bear to look at because it provoked _thoughts _and I had strictly forbidden myself from any such thoughts. Entering the living room that I spent my days in I absorbed its state, which pretty much didn't exist. It looked as though no one lived here, dust lay thick on the surfaces, no photographs portrayed a family, no mess showed signs of use. I ran my hand through my hair feeling a huge desire to grab and _pull. _I sat in the left armchair of this room every day, occasionally the food deprived pain of my stomach would draw me to the kitchen where I would open a tin and eat the cold food, and these cupboards were running low. Even old Mother Hubbard had more food. Other than that I did nothing, I thought nothing; I was nothing. I'd sit in my chair until the room around me fell dark and then I would walk to my bedroom and sleep.

I couldn't bring myself to follow my routine today; the haze that I had been living in seemed to have lifted.

Instead of walking further into the living room I ran back up the staircase, I looked around frantically on the landing, the energy that had been lying dormant suddenly coursing through me. I couldn't stand this house, this shell; I needed to be somewhere _different. _I couldn't leave the house; part of me still cringed away from the idea of going near those thought-provoking letters. I surveyed the closed doors around me, my own bedroom, the bathroom, the spare bedroom, the linen cupboard, my fath- my father's office, my parent's room. I looked away from those doors as if their very sight scolded me. My eyes landed on the last door in the landing, the door I hadn't been through in many years, the room that held no recent –painful- memories; opening the door I was faced with the colorful steps of my childhood, I had painted each step a different shade of pink. Walking up the staircase I felt my chest relax, the familiar creak of the 'squeaky step' felt somehow reassuring, not as reassuring as the room beyond it though. The old cream carpet lay out in front of me, still bearing the marks of my nail polish phase which I had 'cleverly' disguised with a pink fluffy rug. I found myself looking around in wonder at everything: Shuffling through a pile of young teen magazines clumsily piled beside the double bed with its brass fittings that I had painted white, the poles of which still baring the residue of those stickers you get in the very magazines beside it. I sat heavily onto my bed, and gazed around at everything else; the dressing table scattered with cheap makeup, the loping ceiling marking it as an attic, the poster on that very sloping ceiling of Jesse McCartney and Brittney Spears, the chunky stereo sitting on my chest of draws with piles of CDs stacked beside it, the huge window overlooking our neighbours identical house, the lava lamp, teddies, books and old photographs adorning the shelves.

The room was untouched, as though my child self-had just stepped out and never returned, which was precisely what had happened.

I had shed this room and all of its belongings just as I shed my glasses, braces, science books, pigtails and Lucy.

I walked out and never looked back.

I promptly flung myself onto my old bed though in the next moment was regretting that impulse; squarely in front of my face standing proudly on my bedside table was a framed photograph of me and my parents, me in a ballerina outfit with braces and all, my father's stern but proud face looking down on me and my mother's grinning figure walking towards us. I could already feel the tears streaming down my cheeks as I shot straight off of the bed and grabbed the photo, running down stairs I flung my parents' bedroom door open and threw the photo inside. Collapsing against the doorway I let reality wash over me, drowning me in my own tears. I let the memories replay in my head:

_My mother greeted me with a very uncharacteristic smile as I entered the kitchen._ I watched her intently, only glancing down occasionally to ensure no milk spilt or I'd picked up the appropriate jar; yes this was very uncharacteristic, at least since dad died, it had become rare. A rare beauty that I felt inclined to cherish, drink in whist it lasted. Mum was most beautiful when smiling, washing away all signs of age, of pain. I sat across the table from her and began to eat breakfast as she was, her fingers moved gingerly, tearing off pieces of toast, lifting them to her mouth and several times leaving them hanging there until they were all but forgotten about, she'd look down moments later with an expression of such surprise from seeing the toast there that I would have laughed if I had not been so worried about her. She'd proceed to drop the toast piece onto her plate and start again; it took her twice as long to finish her toast as it had taken me. I waited, still sitting when I had finished, an overwhelming need to talk to her, small talk, anything but at each attempt the simple words caught in my throat. We are so very dysfunctional. Her smile had become stiff, her eyes misty so that the effect had become almost creepy.

"Mum…" The words escaped before I had considered a follow up sentence

"Yes?" She looked up at me quizzically; her face unnaturally animated as though she were wearing an amusingly exaggerated theatre mask, although this was not amusing in the slightest.

My chest tightened as I struggled to find casual words that were not begging her to be normal; for us to be normal. It dawned on me that we'd never be normal again. Were we ever?

"Why didn't you use butter?" as the thought struck me, it spilled out. I would never have said that, I would have thought about it and concluded it as being involved in the topic we never speak about, the topic that had become blasphemy in this house; dad.

"I couldn't…" Her face dropped comically fast and I could have shot myself in that moment.

"I, well I tried to pick up the butter but, your dad, and I. The weather is nice today isn't it? You can really tell its summer now can't you?" She acted as though her statement where coherent and forced her smile back in place.

It hit me then that she hadn't used butter or any other condiment for that matter because my farther had always used excessive amounts; it was his 'thing', his little quirk that stood out against his strict personality. He'd come over to the kitchen table with his toast over-flowing with butter or jam. We avoid remembering him as much as physically possible.

"Yes" It came out as a mashed up mumble.

My mother nodded once, as though my voice had not cracked.

I left her then, just as the mist began to visibly cover her eyes again, just as her cheeks contorted in such a way that her smile looked stiff again. I left her and went to my room. I spent all day in my room, listening to music, trying to sing like I used to. Opening my mouth and willing the song to come out, instead broken sobs erupted and I ended up curling into the fetal position shaking to my core. Everything bombarded me; thoughts of my missing baby, wrapping my arms around the bump that no longer existed, thinking about woman who would be holding my baby, that thief. I thought about my farther, the man I spent over half of my existence trying to be perfect for, the man I loved more than the world, the man who turned me away when I needed him most. The man who now lay in the coffin. Isn't one person your world revolves around being torn away enough for anybody? But no life, karma whatever it was had taken everything; my baby, my boyfriend, my farther and now my mother. She's not really my mother anymore, she's a shell of a person; worse than the woman who didn't protect me, who let me slip through her fingers.

I noticed that the room had grown dark around me, I sat up bolt right. I had not expected this, I expected to be interrupted my mother calling for dinner, by the routine we had slipped into after his death. Perhaps mum had well and truly fallen off the theoretical cliff now? But she still needs to eat, to live. I decided to go down stairs, cook dinner for us, to take as much of the load off as possible. Walking through the hallway I could feel an overwhelming pressure as though the air around me was pushing in, attempting to suffocate me. I don't know how I knew something was drastically wrong but subconsciously I did. I ran through the rooms of our house frantically, somehow knowing I wouldn't find her.

_She was gone and she didn't come back for me, didn't say goodbye. She left me all by myself grief ridden and abandoned. _

Suddenly my clothes felt constricting, my collar choking me, the denim of my jeans immersed in the stench of sorrow; I ripped them off and ran to the bathroom. When I returned to my 'new' room I was clad in a loose white tee that fell from my slender shoulders with every movement and soft shorts, I stood in the mirror staring unseeingly. This is it my new life, fresh start. Hidden away in my attic I could be myself again, slowly let my soul fill this empty shell once more. I deserve at least that don't I? Once the steady trickle from my hair down my back became too much to bear I flipped my head over and began to dry it, I felt my voice swell up in my throat, my breath became jagged until I let my voice explode out harmonizing with the hum of my hair dryer. An old habit, an old song. For once I let it just happen. Britney spears; oops I did it again echoed around the room in but moments, my body reacting to the vibrations of music running through the room, I let myself commit to dance moves I had always vowed the public would never see. Turning off the hair dryer from my bone dry hair I ran to the stereo and cranked up my Britney album. Feeling very much like a character from crossroads I jumped on to my bed, hair brush in hand and synchronised my jumping to the beat of my songs. Free-falling back onto my bed I began panting and immersed myself in my adrenaline buzz, a musical laughter that had been gone for so long that it felt almost foreign chimed in with Britney's rendition of hit me baby one more time. And I felt like my 10 year old self, chubby cheeks, braces and glasses. Feeling as natural as if I were really in 2005 I rummaged through a box I had shoved under my bed and pulled my old glasses on. I stopped using my contacts as suddenly as I had stopped living when my father died, finding a blurry, soft edged world far easier to cope with; though not easy enough. So my glasses brought with them the reassurance of sight, feeling more safe than I had in months I rushed to the mirror stumbling in my haste I pulled up my golden locks into a pony tail and beamed at my reflection,

"Hello again Lucy, I missed you"

The words slipped out but felt right. This is the girl my mother and father loved, I didn't let my thoughts ponder on how late I was and what that meant to me, instead I began to spin until I felt dizzy, and let my music soothe the pain. It was only after a particularly violent batch of dizziness that led to me holding the window for support that I noticed I had an audience. A dark haired boy with sparkling eyes, curls splayed across his forehead and a cheeky smile stared back at me from his bedroom window next door. I hadn't paid much attention to the arrival of our new neighbours; in fact I was comatosed with pain when they knocked on the door to greet us. But suddenly I regretted it dearly, even though the embarrassment that was now burning my cheeks. This boy was the most beautiful boy I had ever set my eyes on, yet vaguely familiar. As I felt my shock and embarrassment subside a rush of anger began to form in their place, who was this boy watching my most venerable moments as though he had a right? Just as I was preparing to break my trance and violently slide my curtains shut he disappeared, without a backwards glance he was gone. I knew then that I wouldn't have shut those curtains because longing stabbed through me and I suddenly felt I would do anything to see his angelic face once more. I stepped backwards finding myself dizzy again, only this time not from excessive twirling. That's when he popped back into the frame carrying a wad of paper which he proceeded to hunch over and did what I can only guess as scribble something onto the paper, his eyebrows slightly tensed and his eyes narrowed briefly in concentration, I found myself obsessing over his every movement, every change in expression. When he lifted the paper towards me with the words

'Howdy neighbour!'

Neatly written in looping joined up writing,

I felt a chime of laughter slip through my lips and watched his eyebrows relax as though relieved. Relieved? Why would he be relieved unless he cared about my opinion, unless I hadn't completely tainted his impression of me through my cheesy dancing? However I didn't let myself ponder it as I was already clambering over my bed to my note pad, fully aware that I must look absolutely insane as I was still in full view of the window. I managed to slow myself slightly and walk around the bed back to the window. I stared down at the pad feeling abruptly speechless now wanting to impress him but not sure upon how, I ended up showing him

'Hi neighbour, isn't she lucky?'

He looked up at me in puzzlement until I looked down and noticed my mistake; I cursed Britney spears under my breath,

'Damn it, now I can't pretend I was dancing to something cool'

Not exactly an explanation but I couldn't quite bring myself to tell him how lame I was, looking up for his reaction I was again surprised to see the words

'I love Britney'

Sprawled out clumsily, and then felt an urge to run down the stairs, out the door across our gardens into his house and kiss him. Get your head straight Lucy, we're trying to impress him, you need to concentrate. Even so I let a grin spread across my face. Before I could come up with an impressive reply however he wrote another note,

'Sweet dreams little dancer'

And with that he crossed his curtains and was gone.

Swoon, can I have him?

Turning my stereo off and crawled into bed then proceeded to stare at the ceiling replaying our strange encounter over and over.

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**A/N: **Thoughts? Opinions? Guesses? Your reviews totally make it worth sharing my work. I more than welcome to ideas and criticisms. I rarely get criticisms but they help my work thrive so please don't hold your tongue?


	2. Don't I recognize you?

Last time I uploaded I was in a rush so here's the thing with this story, I found it in an old notebook a couple of days ago, it was one of the first fan fictions I ever wrote and I've written a lot even if my profile begs to differ. Therefore this might not be written very well, but upon reading it I fell in love with the story all over again, I have a couple of chapters so there will be regular -if not overly eager- updates. I'm currently working on both this and 'Eat My Heart Out'.

Also I attempted to post this chapter earlier, it told me it had done so and sent notifications out to people but the chapter didn't show up so lets hope this works!

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As soon as I woke up the next morning I ran to the window but found only a dark empty room to greet me across the way. Though I didn't let this dampen my mood and cranked up Michel Jackson until he was echoing through my whole house, I ate breakfast in a rush and set to ordering the house; by one o'clock it was spotless. Only my parent's room having been left untouched, family photos now smiled down at me from the walls once more and freshly pruned garden roses bloomed from vases, my house had life once more and I welcomed it whole heartedly. I went to the store and stocked up on not only essentials but memories, my mother's favourite soaps for her on suite and ingredients for our secret brownie recipe. By the end of the day my stomach was full from tuna pasta bake and my heart felt light. I slipped into my slouchy tee and a pair of bright yellow comfy shorts, making sure to stay out of my window range when dressing, curled up and turned on dirty dancing; it was only ten minutes into the film that I noticed his ember eyes watching me, I got so excited that I almost sent my popcorn flying as I tumbled over to my window, his solemn face burst into a smile instantly and we set about our messages.

This became my routine, me cleaning and baking the day away, then talking to the boy across the way until my eyes drooped from exhaustion.

A week in and he was in my every waking thought, wandering through my dreams and filling me with unexplainable joy. I had thought it took time to fall in love; I'd given Finn my patience, waiting for my heart to feel what my mind was so sure of; something that never came. This was nothing alike, this boy made my heart flutter and my world spin when we'd never even been in the same room as each other.

It was a Wednesday night when he flung his window open,

'Lucy! Open your window too?'

That was all I needed, I opened mine with such speed that I almost tumbled out, I noticed his arms fly up as though to catch me even though that wouldn't actually be possible.

'Can you catch Luce?'

'Of course, I'm a cheerleader aren't I?'

'You are?'

Oops that was the first time I had let him get a glimpse at Quinn, who is of course a part of me, but not necessarily one I care much for. Lucy is no cheerleader.

'Yeah, but what's this about?'

I knew full well I could just shout across but that would feel wrong, no matter how much I may want to hear my curly haired boys voice. As soon as I had set my pad aside a length of string flew at me, I automatically caught the end and discovered it was a washing line.

"Huh?"

His responding smile told me he had also realized that was the first time he'd heard my voice. He proceeded to hook a small rectangular hunk of plastic onto the line and tipped the cord so that the device went steadily sliding down. I grabbed it up and watched him pull in the line back then hold up an identical device, I looked down to inspect mine when a green light flashed on and my room was filled with Britney spears once more and a soft but deep, none the less dreamy voice perk up,

"This is for you Luce"

A Walky talky! I felt my eyes sting with unexpected tears of happiness,

I managed a quiet

"Wow"

His laughter filled my room like music,

"Now I can serenade you"

I looked over just in time to see a cheeky wink before he bent and picked up a guitar; he plucked along until his voice could join in,

Shu-doo-doo-doo

Dam-dam, dam-du-dam, doo-bee-doo

Dam-dam, dam-du-dam, doo-bee-doo

I am Doolittle but I do a lot

I try to do the best with what I've got

Sometimes nobody notices at all

If I stood on a chair, I'd be taller

I know there's a million people like me

I'm sure a kick up the bum's all we need

We plan but it never comes true

All I need is somebody like you

Because I'm missing, can you find me?

I can't afford a big reward but, baby, I'm reliable

I'll never go

If you find me, find me, find me, find me

Because I'm missing, can you find me

If anybody has a key to spare a little dream for me

I'll let it be

That you find me, find me, finally found me

When I fall nobody helps me up

And when I call nobody's pickin' up the phone

It seems they won't even throw me a bone,

Stickin' my face on a lamppost

So if you see me in your favourite spot

Just remember I could give you a lot

'Cause I stray in whatever I do

All I need is somebody like you

I gotta get up

I gotta get up

I gotta get up

I gotta get up

So when you see me in your favourite spot

Just remember I could give you a lot

I came to see you when there's no use pretendin'

Let's hope it's a happier ending

Because I'm missing, yeah, you'll find me

I can't afford a big reward but, baby, I'm reliable

I'll never go

If you find me, find me, find me, find me

Because I'm missing and you'll find me

If anybody has a key to spare a little dream for me

I'll let it be

That you finally, finally, finally found me

Dam-dam, dam-du-dam, doo-bee-doo

Dam-dam, dam-du-dam, doo-bee-doo

Unthinkingly my voice joined in, harmonizing with his deeper but beautiful voice.

As the song came to a close I looked across, staring at this mysterious boy, a boy who tugged at the edge of my memory, a boy I was falling in love with when I didn't yet know his name.

I gasped at the realization,

"I don't know your name!"

"Blaine, my names Blaine"

And that's my world came crashing down.

I woke on my bed with a curly haired angel leaning over me,

"Luce, Luce? You're awake! Are you okay? Do you feel okay?"

Blaine, Blaine Anderson.

I'd passed out and he had come to my rescue.

I'm falling for Kurt's boyfriend.

With his hair free and his bowties discarded he looked completely different. With my pig tails, glasses and comfy clothes I look completely different.

"Blaine, I'm okay"

My voice came out very softly, his arms enveloped me, and I couldn't restrain myself from holding him close as well.

"You scared me so much."

He whispered it into my hair and I felt my legs give, praising the fact we were on my bed.

"I'm sorry Blainers"

The nickname came from nowhere but it fit.

"Will you be okay if I go? Mum will freak if she realizes I snuck out, I mean its past curfew"

As we tore away from each other I glanced at my alarm clock, 11:23.

"I'll be fine, you get home Blaine..."

"Okay"

He started walking away, though turning back repeatedly, when I started to follow he told me to sit down and let myself recover. Minutes later however his face popped back up at the top of my stairs,

"Water and painkillers for the wounded girllll!" He sang out,

I couldn't help but burst out laughing, he walked over and handed me them before kissing my forehead,

"My mum really will kill me"

"Shoo shoo you soppy boy"

As he got to the stairs I shouted down thank you and he said goodbye in return.

I turned back to Dirty Dancing that over the course of the time I'd known him, really known him, I'd only gotten 40 minutes through.

But soon he interrupted and I jumped looking for him at the stairs until I realised it was my Walky talky.

"I'm getting in bed but I wanted to say goodnight"

I quickly shut off the telly,

"Good because I didn't get to say goodnight either."

I crawled into bed holding the WT against me,

"So sweetdre-" a yawn interrupted my sentence,

"You sound shattered Luce"

"I am"

"Because of the passing out"

And finding out I'm falling in love with someone who isn't even attracted to girls, but I simply replied

"Because of the passing out."

We lay in silence until he started to softly sing an unfamiliar lullaby,

Hush, hush, time to be sleeping

Hush, hush, dreams come a-creeping

Dreams of peace and of freedom

So smile in your sleep, bonny baby

Once our valleys were ringing

With songs of our children singing

I let myself drift to sleep with his gentle notes.

The same as every night I woke up screaming, I thrust myself forward muffling my hysteria into my pillow, Blaine isn't the only one who wanders my dreams, no this is when the real world catches up with me, the loss of my parents, my baby. My body began to shake violently and my eyes poured with their familiar tears. Gone, all gone.

I let my screams rattle my bones until I voice became too exhausted, until a set of warm, strong arms encased me. Then I let a different scream rip through me, terrified I looked at my captor and my heart eased immediately, my breath came more easily, only my tears remained.

"Blaine?"

My voice croaked out,

"Shh it's okay Luce"

"How?"

In response he lifted my still green flashing Walky talky out of the covers,

"I'm so sorry"

"No, just let me comfort you Luce. I'd rather be here for you."

All I could splutter was

"Your curfew"

I only got a chuckle in response as he pulled me closer; I turned towards him, still in his arms until my face lay against his chest. That's how I fell back to sleep that Wednesday night.


	3. I'm not who you think I am

I woke up to find Blaine watching me, still holding me close.

"Good morning beautiful"

"I need to go pretend I slept in my own bed but I'll be back okay Luce?"

"Hurry back."

By the time he got back I'd fed, dressed and washed myself, he found me sitting on the porch, basking in the warmth of the summer morning.

"Hey, I'm back to... Well do you want to spend the day together?"

He sounded suddenly unsure of himself,

"I can't imagine a better way to spend the day"

I watched as his face lit up in response.

We ended up baking my brownies together,

"I hope I don't poison you"

I couldn't help but laugh,

"You don't think I'm going to let you work unobserved do you? Wouldn't dream of it, you'd probably poison the racoons eating them from the trash!"

That got him laughing hysterically and I couldn't help but join in, they actually turned out really well and we sat and ate a couple at the table,

"So, where are your parents?"

Oh god no! I felt panic swell over me and could no longer hold his gaze,

"I, they"

I spluttered something else incoherent but he interrupted my before I could start hyperventilating,

"I know they don't live here Luce and not just from today or last night, I've never seen them, not so much as a car coming and going. You don't have to worry when it comes to me though, is this why you were crying last night?"

"Yeah"

I sucked in a breath and began slowly,

"My father died and we broke as a family, mum got depressed and left. I started living like normal again. Trying to convince myself..."

I looked up at him, my eyes stinging.

"I'm here for you now Luce, what should we do now?

His voice perked up at the end of the sentence and I knew he wasn't going to push me, which I was forever grateful for.

"Well we could start by taking these brownies over to your family?"

We made our way over to the Andersons household, his parents were as friendly as Blaine, his mother with dark curls descending her back and Blaine's warm smile, his farther sharing Blaine's quirky eyebrows and good nature. I loved them already.

"Well Blaine as happy as we are to meet Lucy, you've neglected your chore, go on, wash the car now"

Mr Anderson said teasingly but with an air that told you he still meant it.

"I'll help!" my voice came out slightly too enthusiastically,

"Can we have you?"

Blaine's mother teasingly ruffled my ponytail; I didn't miss the fact that I'd thought the same thing when I'd first met her son.

"Yes!"

We all laughed but I secretly knew that I would give anything for this not to be just teasing.

I and Blaine began work on the car, squirting each other and messing around until eventually the car was clean, we sat on the lawn and his mum brought us lemonades.

"Blaine?"

I needed to get this out of the way; not telling him would be the same as lying. I looked over at him lying with him eyes closed, the sun casting across his face in such a way that he looked luminescent, making him glow lightly gold; I can't lie to this angelic person.

"Hum?"

"My names Lucy Quinn Fabray"

It came out as a whisper but I know he heard me because he opened his eyes and looked at me intensely, his eyes gentle and his lips tweaking up slightly,

He softly murmured "I know, I've known since 'I'm a cheerleader'. But you're not Quinn really, you're Lucy."

"Yes, I'm Lucy."

We watched the sun go down until his parents called us in and invited me to dinner. They didn't tell me to ask my parents or even mention them, I wondered what conclusion they'd come to.

We had a roast with all the trimmings, it was bitter sweet to feel like part of a family but I'd still give anything to actually be part of it.

I said good bye and left once we'd cleared the dishes but me and Blaine were speaking on the Walky talkies the second Id ran up to my room. I burst out straight away with

"Thank you today was wonderful Blaine."

"Thank you for being my slave, much appreciated"

I could hear the smile in his voice,

"Slave!?"

"Hahaha you sound tired little slave, I guess that car really took it out of you"

"Have you noticed a theme yet? It's when I'm with you. You're exhausting to deal with"

"Ooh that burns"

"I'd better kiss it better then, actually, I'm sure an apology will do, I'm sorry Blaine."

"You just cheated me out of a kiss, bah humbug"

With that I walked over to the window and blew him a kiss,

"No I didn't, goodnight"

"Sweet dreams... I love you"

He said it so quietly that I almost didn't catch it, though he'd turned his off so I couldn't reply, feeling ripples of emotion running over me I climbed into bed and turned off the Walky talky.

Blaine Anderson loves me; he is the only person in the world who loves me now.

I don't know where he and Kurt stand, I don't even know where his sexuality stands, and anyone can like anyone else of any gender because you don't fall in love with their gender but their personality. I'd never taken the time to come out as straight so why should he have to state what he is?

Still, I want to know him inside out, cherish his every characteristic and opinion. I want to call him mine and know Kurt is out of the question, how very selfish of me.

The floor beneath me is hard and ungiving, watching my breath crystalize billowing around my face I wait, each second feeling lonelier and colder my body curling inward that much more. A large, flushed hand appears in my vision making all loneliness wash away, taking his hand it's as though his heat filters through to me reaching the extremities of my body in waves until even my toes felt warmth. A smile pulls naturally at my lips as though it had always been there and I look into the face I had been waiting for. My father stands before me, smiling warmly. We begin to walk slowly when I tear my gaze from his handsome face to see where he's leading me; my mother stands before us looking angelic and peaceful as she walks forward she holds out a hand for me, we continue to walk content in each other's presence, its then that I notice my bump, my baby. Warmth not so dissimilar to that of my father's hand runs through me at the weight of my baby, knowing that I'm protecting her once more we continue in bliss until I notice a lone figure in the distance.

As we near the figure it becomes apparent who it is, running now towards Blaine I grab his hand and we beam at each other, I turn to introduce him to my family but they're gone. At this realisation I feel the weight in my torso drop until I feel light enough to fly away, only Blaine's warm hand anchoring me. I look into his ember eyes and watch them grow hard, scanning over him I notice arms sliding around his waist, his fingers go limp in mine and wind howls around my ears until it tears my fingers away and carry's me toward the icy clouds but not before I notice Kurt's head resting on Blaine's shoulder.

Waking up slick with sweat and shuddering with screams I couldn't help but notice my nightmares had changed; originally my dreams were plagued with just my family but really what happens if he leaves me? A fresh scream broke free and I pressed my body forward into my duvet feeling hollow, trying to smother the fiery pain burning inside me.

"Luce?"

In confusion I looked around for the WT with no immediate success only to feel his arms encasing me again, holding me together so I wouldn't fall apart. I slumped back into him in exhausted relief; his presence was like water in a desert.

"I love you too" I'd been bursting with the inability to reply because I do love him, I can't bear the thought of life without him. He is my life now.

"I'll always be here" his voice was as soft as a whisper, his breath caressing my cheek.

"Promise" I didn't even try to hide the desperation in my voice

"I promise."

With that I fell to sleep.

However I woke up to an empty bed sending a flash of panic down my spine, tensing every muscle, I replayed his confession of love and was instantly soothed but where was he?

"Blaine?"

I stumbled over to the window but his bedroom looked dead. Looking around I noticed a note on my pillow.

'Gone to pretend I'm not a delinquent to mum'

I let a laugh slip through my lips and held the paper to my chest. The Andersons had left me an open invitation so I rushed to my closet and looked around at the masses of 'Quinn' clothes that were hung up.

Something pretty, something simple, something Lucy.

A light eyelet lace dress caught my eye with its waist emphasizing, full skirted shape; a mixture of Quinn and Lucy, perfect.

At the mirror I restrained my bangs with a thin bowed cream scarf, leaving my hair to its natural wave I just added a touch of mascara and lip balm, put on my oversized but familiar glasses, slipped into my old vans and scrambled out of the house with a piece of toast in hand which I managed to scoff before I pressed the doorbell in hopes of not looking like a total savage,

"Lucy! Good morning, come in, Blaine's got a visitor upstairs but I could actually do with your help anyway if you don't mind?" Blaine's mum glowed seeming to have soaked in the summer's morning.

"Of course"

Visitor? Well I had been monopolizing him recently. Mrs A led me through to the living room where she shut the door behind her. On the couches there were several beautiful evening gowns, a velvet floor sweeping number, silks and even lace.

"Wow" I couldn't help but utter at the sight of these lavishly designed gowns, with a chuckle she launched into her dress choosing dilemma, I ended up getting her to try them on and altered a few to her shape with pins. We decided upon the black velvet one for her up and coming business do. It took us hours and we were laughing and talking so freely, but it still felt natural.

Soon enough though her expression changed to one on concern and she looked on the verge of speaking,

"Yes?" I prompted

"Well, Lucy I vaguely know your situation at home and though morally I should inform the authorities for your safety, I won't, if you're happy like this who am I to stop you? I've come up with a compromise though, that if you'd have dinner with us every evening and check in on a morning? I want you to be happy, healthy and safe. I also want you to know, you really can be a part of this family, that you do have people who love you. Blaine thinks the world of you, you know?"

I was speechless, an overwhelming urge to cry threatened me and at that moment I wanted nothing more than to be in this woman's motherly embrace, as if Reading my mind she shuffled over and put her arm around me. And with that I felt safe.

Later we were in the kitchen preparing a large lunch of salads and sandwiches, laughing and talking like mother and daughter -in some ways I felt a twinge of guilt over my own mother but Suzan didn't give me a moment between laughs to get upset- when Blaine bundled in with Kurt in hand.

Kurt in hand.

Blaine's visitor.

Blaine's boyfriend.

"Hey mum can Kurt stay for lunch?"

I felt my heart drop and stared at their enclosed hands until they noticed my presence.


End file.
